Life With a Dark Lord
by NeedForDumpsters
Summary: HP/LV Rated M for eventual slash. There was a reason the Hat wanted HP in Slytherin. Voldemort and Harry met in 2:nd year, three years later Harry's tired of playing innocent. Humor/drama/romance/friendship/adventure. DarkHarry StrongHarry LovingVoldemort
1. Chapter 1

**Hey****!** It's time for my second story; I was happily surprised by how well my first one was received. This story will have a different approach although Harry will most definitely end up happy in the end as that is my idea of a DarkHarry based story.

So I guess that ruined the element of surprise for you. Yes, Harry is to be dark in this story.

Also, I plan to make this a multiple-chapters story, a challenge, but hey, mind's the limit right? And my mind's full of super nerdy Harry/Voldie moments…

**Warnings for this chapter:** giggle-inducing insinuations.

**Disclaimer** (was too excited to do this with my first story)**: **Harry Potter does not sparkle and will never ever love me. Voldemort will.

**Life with a Dark Lord**

**Chapter 1, **

**Monstrous Couches**

It's dark.

_And __fuck it's cold!_ Harry hugged his arms tight around his ribs and squinted into the forbidden forest.

His body shook from the cold, his heating charms wearing off as he approached the ancient and powerful wards preventing intruders on the castle grounds.

He was getting out though. Out from this hellhole people called a school. He was nearing the end of his fifth year and the encouraging comments and pointed stares were driving him insane; _fuck the war!_

Merlin was he tired of being cheery and acting like a good for nothing, the light were stupid for thinking he was going to sacrifice his life, yes his bloody _life_, for their beliefs.

What did he care if some random muggles got murdered? Hell, he wanted to kill some of them himself! His supposed 'uncle and aunt' with their fat son would make great victims of his hate.

He'd planned on using a spell he'd seen a death eater use last summer during the quidditch world cup. It had seemed to pull out the intestines of a victim through his or her mouth. He'd been quite intrigued by the results.

He felt as he passed the final ward, the fidelius charm, a new addition.

It had been powerfully placed by the whole school staff after he'd had a 'vision' of Voldemort coming waltzing in, the centaurs trailing behind him. Of course it was all fake; Voldemort, or Tom as Harry preferred to call him when they were alone, couldn't ever make the centaurs close a deal for his side.

But he had tried, and tried again, and again.

_No matter__,_ Harry thought and smiled one of his disconcerting smiles which had the light wince as he inwardly discussed the ways to torture them all. Voldemort had gained other allies, like the werewolves for example.

Apparently Remus had gone to try to sway the packs to the light last summer, and well, let's just say Fenrir had been in for a hell of a surprise when his old victim turned out to be his mate.

And that had been that really, he thought as he remembered his last meeting with the two, Remus contentedly sitting in the lap of his turner.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the reverie he once again tried to make out the shapes of men by the edge of the forest. When Harry had in great frustration and despair called Voldemort through his two-way mirror and demanded to be let out of the loony-tower the Dark Lord had grudgingly admitted it wasn't fair to make him stay any longer.

In November it had been three years since they for the first time shook hands.

After finding out about the chamber of secrets and meeting the aged and wise basilisk in it Harry had by his own device sought out the, by the public assumed dead, Dark Lord.

Finding him hadn't been easy, when he finally did however it had been somewhere wholly unexpected. The Forbidden Forest. What happened then had exceeded his expectations by solar systems. The Dark Lord had spoken directly into his mind, and without preambles told him the truth, the truth about _everything_. Quickly finding his wits Harry'd pretended to seem frightened while calmly, in his mind, replying that he would like to get to know his parents' killer.

After several rendezvous he agreed to help find one of Voldemort's horcruxes. Or, well the tricky part would be getting a hold of it and smuggling it out of the castle, Dumbledore being none the wiser.

Obviously he'd succeeded.

He'd 'rescued' Ginerva Weasley after professor Lockhart had shot a backfiring obliviatus spell on himself. Or so he told Dumbledore and changed Ronald Weasley's memories to look like, just in case. After that he'd proceeded to conjure a false diary which he then let the great basilisk pierce with one of her fangs. Escaping the chamber through an underground tunnel, the diary in his hands, he'd made his way to Voldemort, or what was left of him anyways. What happened then as Voldemort merged with the one piece of soul Harry dared not think about as it would cause him to re-experience the intense pain he'd felt through their link. Finally finishing the last part of the plan the Dark Lord conjured a fake basilisk for Harry to 'fight' and the rest of that year is history.

"Seriously guys, I'm trying to see you, I really am, but you wearing black cloaks against a black background aren't making it very easy" finally loosing his temper he fired a myriad of spells into random bushes, hearing several cries of surprise in return. Two identical chuckles made him smile, Tom sure knew how to please him; he'd sent the Weasley twins together with more experienced death eaters to pick him up.

Hurrying his steps he found himself suddenly face to face with two identical smirks. "Sweet Merlin you know how to stage a surprise" he said as he mock-faked a heart attack by pressing his hand to his chest. "You two could probably kill the Order with your shocking methods alone" he continued teasingly while starting to walk towards where the other Death Eaters were.

Glancing to George who was walking to his right he saw the twin frowning in thought, as if actually considering the idea; he groaned. _Great, fucking great, now Tom will get mad at me for putting ideas in their head when they should be training._

"My prince." McNair stated and the others followed with the same salute. Harry frowned unnoticeably; he didn't like that honorific, it was Tom who'd insisted on calling him by that name during the time they'd 'nourished' their relationship in secrecy.

He'd exposed his existence by accident, but it had luckily been while wearing the mask and green robes Tom had had manufactured for him.

He'd never actually exposed his identity so perhaps he was still having a secret form of relationship with his now long-time friend, friend being a reforming term for what they had.

_Maybe friends with benefits would suit us better…_ he continued to muse about the naming of their relationship as he stopped beside the others.

Looking to him for help he did what so far only he and the Dark Lord could, raise his hands while chanting in Parseltongue to open a portal that would allow them to travel in space.

Black tendrils swirled from his hands and encompassed them before releasing a heavy pressure which he felt as his silver mask felt like it smashed his pale face.

The pressure lifted and they all stumbled except for Harry who felt the distinct feeling of Tom's hands holding him steady.

"_You came to greet me." _He said cheerily in Parseltongue as he relaxed into the firm hold.

He looked around the summoning chamber of Voldemort's manor. _The Slytherin Manor._ It was quite extraordinary.

Sure the walls of the chamber was a dull rock colour, they were underground on top of a mountain after all. But the pillars and floor were a smooth black marble with ripples of shifting shades of green.

Against the back wall were a row of luxurious chairs in gold plastered wood and lush red stopping.

Lined against the right wall on each sides of the soft grey marble stair was the junior Death Eaters, many of which Harry had never seen before, thus stating this as a big event. Opposite the juniors were the ordinary servants of the Dark Lord, standing proudly about a foot from the rock wall. And finally in a semicircle in front of the podium of the summoning chamber were the elite.

They were disciplined enough not to look and instead focusing their gaze on the throne like chairs standing on the raising of the marble floor.

The bigger of the two chairs was clad in gold with a dark grey padded satin seat and backrest. It was positioned in the middle, the smaller 'throne' to its left; the side of a life-companion.

The Dark Lord gently steered him away from his pick-up entourage and towards the smaller silver throne. It matched his outfit the teen thought, amused. The forest green satin-clad padding felt nice and soft against his arse as he gracefully sat down next to Tom.

A few of the youngsters besides the stair openly ogled his slim form underneath a messy black mop of hair. According to Voldemort his hairstyle was far from descent as it screamed recently-shagged.

Not that the old man complained when Harry let it flow freely and messily around his sweaty face in bed.

Why he lay sweaty and writhing in bed as the Dark Lord watched was another story.

Seeing Tom crossing his index and middle finger, forming the sign of wanting to talk through their link Harry lowered his mental shields around the area in his mind. A gentle voice caressed his mind,

'Did everything go as planned?' Harry smiled under the mask, here they go again, Voldie being overprotective as his object of affection waved it off; being well aware he could eliminate almost every threat directed at him.

'I'm fine Tom, the portal thing's just giving me a headache' Harry answered truthfully as he couldn't repress his hand slightly clutching the armrest in discomfort, no-one else noticed and if they did they would think it was because of one of his frequent outbursts of frustration.

'Is that better my little serpent?' the Dark Lord said into his mind after sending some soothing caresses through their link. He mentally nodded and the handsome lord beside him let forth a heartbreaking smile.

The old man bore the form of an seventeen year-old as the master-piece of soul had merged with the first horcrux Tom had ever created, adopting the younger of the two's form. It had become obvious he would not physically age after a year or so.

A collective of gasps were heard as the junior death eaters saw their lord smile in such a carefree fashion. Harry quietly chuckled as Tom frowned, 'I do believe they are shocked at your rather outrageous behaviour my lord' he said mentally, earning himself an annoyed glance from his 'friend'.

'It is not more outrageous than your hair' the Dark lord countered in a smirking tone, Harry openly smirked back.

'You seemed rather fond of it during Easter break, as I remember it'

'What do you mean?' Tom asked curiously, still looking around at his followers. The tension in the room was strained since he'd frowned.

'Well you were stroking and patting it as soon as you thought I was asleep' an embarrassed feeling escaped the Dark Lord's mental walls. 'Not that I complain, it is rather nice knowing my bodily functions is not all which pleases my Lord' _Ah, there it is,_ a faint blush passed; unnoticed by all except Harry.

The raven haired teen had long considered it his favourite past-time to make 'his Lord' blush, a feat not entirely easy to achieve.

'I'll have you know we are sharing a bedroom from now on.' The Dark lord smirked in their minds; Harry frowned in confusion, adding to the tenseness of the group before them.

'What do you mean?' the fact they were sharing a room was not cause for his distress; they'd been doing that in all but theory since the end of last summer. No, it was the sneaky smirk now openly plastered onto his Lord's beautiful face.

'Meaning I can make you sleep on the couch' Harry mock-gasped and let his hand cover his mouth.

'You wouldn't!' he continued indignantly. 'The plush monster would swallow me alive!' A pause and then;

"_You- what? I- you-_what_!"_ Harry promptly started giggling, an entirely un-manly act, but he could not stop himself; the sight was almost too much. It did not take long until the Dark Lord followed, a deep chuckle escaping his lush lips before he regained the tight control he always kept. Once again slipping on the emotionless mask he always kept for his followers.

"_I think you made some of the younger ones wet themselves"_ Harry calmly observed.

"_Hush you, let's not go for number two"_ this however, only served to, once again, crack the emerald eyed boy up. Truly, his Lord knew how to entertain.


	2. Chapter 2

Wow! I made this in three hours… I really should update more often. Hope it doesn't disappoint too much, and hopefully it won't be confusing with all the mood-swings.

I realize it's kind of short, but hey; it's an update! XD

I'm thinking of writing a sequel to my one-shot "Not What You Thought I Was", it _might_ affect the next update.

Hope you like it!

**Warnings: **Rated Mature for a reason, though nothing much in this chapter.

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter isn't mine. If he was, Voldemort would be sporting glasses.

**Life with a Dark Lord**

**Chapter 2, **

**Bothering touches**

Marcus Flint had been a Death Eater for two years. During that time he had attended several meetings with their Lord, but not one of them had included this strange, lithe youth now unconcernedly seating himself beside the feared Dark Lord.

The young Death Eater couldn't help but admire the courage and grace with which this was done.

Their Lord had been quiet, as if in deep thought, since sitting down in his majestic throne. The dark locks surrounding his Lord's pale complex were a tame mirroring image of the cloaked stranger.

When Voldemort chuckled Marcus was one of the lucky ones; he did not piss himself from fear, he merely paled. With sweat running down his brow he stared as the stranger continued to giggle away – recklessly, beside their Lord. Sure this would never end well he prayed for the teen.

It took what felt like hours before the strange teen composed himself, only occasionally emitting small snort-like noises. Then something happened which Marcus never in his life would have thought to witness.

Harry's point of view:

He was trying hard to keep the absurdity of it all from escaping in mad giggles, well aware Tom would never forgive him if he ruined a meeting such as this. He'd pay, probably by not being allowed outside. _Oh yeah, he can be awfully protective._ However, the green eyed youth knew he would never be hurt either physically or mentally by his lover, because; believe it or not, the Dark Lord did **not** believe in domestic violence.

Brought back by the annoyed magic crackling around the Dark Lord Harry promptly shut up.

"My friends," here Harry made a mental snort; the Dark Lord smirked, "I have gathered you here today not only for the monthly reports but also-" he glanced at Harry, "to introduce to you, the Prince" many heads snapped to attention and to observe as Harry now lowered his hood. However, many were disappointed as the silver mask remained in place on the now obviously attractive boy.

Harry let forth a chilling smile and turned to the youngest of Tom's followers, the juniors.

He could see they were practically bouncing with suppressed curiosity about his identity.

The elite, or 'inner circle' as they were long ago nick-named, stood stoically through it all; only slight glances flickering between himself and their Lord. A few had seen him before in his guise as 'the Prince' and were familiar with his strange behaviour. Although none of them would have expected it to last into an official meeting. Therefore the Juniors weren't the only ones shocked when the feared Dark Lord in a most fond way started to pull Harry back into his seat by the back of his robe.

"_Sit, young one."_ Was the simple command Harry got as he struggled; he wanted to _do_ something!

He mock-glared at Tom before his face, or what could be seen of it, cracked into one of his mischievous smiles. Voldemort mentally groaned; a mischievous Harry was a pain-in-the-ass Harry.

"_F__ine."_ Was all the warning he got before the minx plopped down onto the inwardly startled Dark Lord's lap.

Reactions were immediate, about half of the elite raising their wands, about to attack.

"_Crucio._" Voldemort stated, not even bothering with a wand. _"They dare!" _Voldemort hissed furiously, gripping Harry's hip possessively. "You will not raise your wand against the Prince, he is to be respected as I am" feeling the forming of a bruise Harry leaned back against Tom's solid frame, breathing in the scent of musky pine and what he thought of as pure warmth. Sending calm through their connection and all but snuggling up against his 'friend' he was content to feel Voldemort relax and relent in the torture of his followers.

The screaming stopped.

'I'm tired Tom' Harry said to his scar. The Dark Lord's firm hand sneaked around his waist and held him securely against a warm chest.

'Then rest little one, the proceedings will not bother you' the Dark Lord rarely showed emotion and when he with a stony expression let the small teen slumber against his chest like a child many shuddered. Their only thoughts were of what he could possibly be doing with such a mysterious boy.

It was an hour and more than forty reports later that Harry began to stir from his 'nap'.

The earlier boredom seeped back into his mind and he found himself entertaining the thought of thoroughly "bothering" the Lord in whose lap he currently resided.

He made a miniscule shift of his position, centring himself where even a Dark Lord wouldn't be able to ignore certain movements…

'Harry…' the Dark Lord warned, but Harry would not be chided, he'd been forced to nap for Merlin's sake! Out of boredom no less!

'I wonder what you'd do if-' Tom's mental voice snapped him off,

'If you were to accidentally become _very_ uncomfortable?' A barrage of images threatened to overwhelm the younger one's self-control, breathing heavily Harry pushed an image of himself and the Dark Lord in an _extremely_ compromising situation.

Suddenly very grateful for the loose nature of robes Harry hissed a non-mentionable curse; something which seemed to amuse his living sitting quarters to no end.

Giving up on his intended target Harry's gaze once again swept the sparingly lit chamber. Some of the senior Death Eaters lined against the left wall had, probably excused after a brief report, left.

After further inspection of the stony chamber he was disappointed at finding all juniors absent. Harry grumbled unintelligibly in parseltongue; they would have served as great entertainment.

"Luciusss" Voldemort called in his most snakelike manner. A white-masked and cloaked figure stepped forward from the half-circle elite Death Eaters surrounding the platform. The only thing betraying his identity was a sliver of pale blonde hair falling from underneath the black hood.

"My Lord" Lucius Malfoy answered.

"How is it proceeding at the ministry?" Voldemort asked, making Harry suddenly very interested in the happenings instead of playing hangman in the air, by himself, with his wand. The Dark Lord wasn't sure whether to be amused or worried by the inappropriateness of the game. _Well, it sure is original._

…

"_Finally!"_ Harry exclaimed as the last Death Eater had apparated from dark chamber. The Dark Lord merely shook his head at the boy's antics. Grabbing him by the waist and bringing him up flush against his front he was content to see a slight blush spreading across the younger one's features. _"Are we going to bed now?"_ his little minx asked; his blush worsening with each second, Voldemort smirked.

"_Oh yesss…" _He reached to push a stray strand from the smaller boy's eyes, _"I'm taking you to bed"_ with that he focused on the King sized four poster bed with black silk sheets placed in his large quarters.

Arriving by a small crack Voldemort wasted no time in taking advantage of the unbalanced state of his young 'friend'.

He pushed Harry until he fell back on the bed, and trapped him from above. Looking up in a slight daze it was to be met by the sight of a very pleased Dark Lord.

"I trust you're well rested after your little nap?" the Dark Lord hummed, ghosting his lips over Harry's lips, and then down his throat only to continue down his chest after meeting no obstacles. _Wait what?_ Harry struggled to look down and discovered his shirt missing from his torso. It was all the same to him really, the feeling of Tom's lips and, oh (gasp!), tongue, against his skin optioning out any objections.


	3. Chapter 3

I just want to tell you all; I feel ashamed, this update is way too late in coming. I will try to get better with my updates. I really, really appreciate all the reviews I've gotten! Thank you all!

And yes, there will be some smexy lemons – Finally! This demands dancing! (don't worry I'll do it for you so you can read)

**Warnings for this chapter: **Harry/Voldie action! (and strange snake-like behaviour)

**Disclaimer****: **I know some very enthusiastic fangirls who would absolutely LOVE for me to own Harry Potter, but sadly, I don't.

**Life with a Dark Lord**

**Chapter 3, **

**Sunny mornings after**

"Mmm…"

Harry reached outside his warm sheet-blanket cocoon; nothing. There was nothing there. 'Wha…' he thought, as his Tom had only the night before chanted, in a rather possessive way, _'you're mine, mine, mine,'_ and then ended the mantra with telling him in no uncertain terms that he was to stay with his lord at all times.

'Then why did he leave _me_?' Harry almost whimpered, the Dark Lord knew just as anyone would if they knew the slender teen, his greatest fear was to be left alone. Then, feeling weak for his sudden show of insecurities, Harry shook his head and started digging himself out of his cosy cave. Walking over to the walk-in wardrobe he reached for the slim fitting slacks laying on a top-shelf. He cursed.

"Damn you Dursley! It's your fault I'm too short!" he almost growled standing on his toes still attempting to reach the desired article of clothing.

"Not that I contend the cursing of those foul muggles in any way, but I must say I rather enjoy your delectable form as it is" Came a silky-smooth baritone from the open double doors of the walk-in. Harry shivered; not necessarily from his now chilling body, his lord did, after all, have the most gorgeous voice. 'Let me help you little one' the taller man then offered through their link. Walking up behind the slight form of his 'little one' he reached one arm up to retrieve the black trousers desired.

_He smells like tea. _Was all Harry could think of as the Dark Lord wrapped his other arm around his waist; successfully bringing his backside flush against the possessive man's torso. The Dark Lord sighed contentedly.

'Where did you go?' Harry asked and couldn't help but let a little accusation colour his mental voice. Voldemort however, being the cunning man he was, easily picked up his young sort-of-lover's distress among the jumbled feelings. Smiling somewhat sadly he nuzzled Harry's raven hair.

'I went for breakfast' he answered truthfully. Feeling sheepish the younger of the two broke loose of the small embrace and started dressing. Ignoring the watching eyes of England's Dark Lord he settled in the black slacks which hugged him in all the right places and pulled a burgundy turtleneck on before fastening a soft satin robe with silver clasps shaped, naturally, like striking snakes.

"_You look absolutely dark my serpent" _Voldemort complimented dressed himself in all black, closed robes with ornate silver patterns on the hems. Taking his arm he led Harry to the small sitting room connected to his quarters where a smaller breakfast was set up on the small coffee table in front of the hearth. The midmorning sun was shining through tall windows and glinting off small photo frames and trinkets and objects both light and dark in nature. A silver perch was standing between the large balcony door and an equally large window but there was no sign of the snowy owl with her too wise amber eyes.

Noticing where the younger man was looking Voldemort calmly informed him that his precious Hedwig had indeed found her way there and only minutes before taken off, presumably to take care of some business or other. Why the Dark Lord was referring to an owl as a human being he had no idea, it was a habit he had adopted from his young 'friend'.

"Hmm" Harry hummed in understanding and seated his lord in one of the large armchairs before plopping happily down on his lap. Chuckling Voldemort let his snake settle on his human perch before sneaking his arms around his waist holding him close and steady while once again nuzzling his hair.

Lucius point of view:

It was midmorning and his lord _still_ had not emerged from his rooms. He knew it was probably due to the arrival of the strange, lithe youth last night. However the war would not fight itself; there was business to attend to and Lucius had gotten the task of retrieving the dark side's hope for victory; the Dark Lord.

Now, it was not an easy task seeing as their lord was nothing if not irritable, he could only hope that the teen from last night had settled some of his bad mood. And oh how he longed that would be the case.

Reaching the chambers of his lord he tentatively knocked on the sturdy mahogany door… Just as it seemed no answer was forthcoming he heard footsteps nearing the other side of the door.

Shock.

General point of view:

Pure shock was written on Lucius Malfoy's face. Inwardly Harry congratulated himself on a job well done; he'd managed to scare Lucius Malfoy. He stood smiling a disconcerting smile while wearing his mask. Lucius took a step back in shock. Harry's smile grew, if possible, even wider. Truly, this was a splendid morning. Behind him he heard Voldemort chuckling and then walk over, purring as he felt his lord wind his arms around him from behind he admired the way Lucius face drained of what colour was left before closing off in a blank mask.

"Luciussss, what brings you to my quarters?" the Dark Lord said in an almost conversational tone, almost being the key word. Dark Lords simply did not converse with their followers.

Harry watched as the lord Malfoy gathered what courage he could muster in order to answer;

"My Lord, Severus Snape has come from Hogwarts with a most pressing matter and the Weasley twins have come to report on the business in Diagon Alley and-"

"And?" Harry cut him off; they were obviously reports on his disappearance. Voldemort, sensing worse things to come pulled his lover out of the way and pushed him towards the interrupted breakfast.

"_Finish your breakfast, I will be just outside the door"_ seeing the teen tense he added _"you may listen though our link if you wish, I will not leave you little one, you're mine"_ pleased to see him relaxing and picking up a forgotten toast he stepped outside the door, closing it behind him.

…

"Remind me again why we're not napping in the sun?" Harry asked as he fought a pout. The sun was shining through the window and looking outside you could see the Slytherin Manor's garden almost screaming for him to join and bask in the sun. He could see snakes of different sizes wallow in the warmth of the beautiful flat rocks placed in a pentagon pattern in the middle of the courtyard. Black gravel on white shaped the star inside and thorny bushes lined the small patches of lush green grass.

"You're drooling." Voldemort stated with a fond smile. He glanced outside and could not help but hum in appreciation. _'Perhaps a small break wouldn't hurt'_ he thought through their link. Harry grinned in answer and skipped to the door before turning around with a delighted smile on his face, the Dark Lord gaped. Of course; he knew his little serpent could be strangely childish and on the verge of eccentric but _skipping_? Truly, the world never ceased to amaze him.

…

They'd been lying on a patch of grass for nearly two hours simply basking like true snakes in the sun both occasionally humming or emitting contented hissings. Now however, Harry was bored, again.

After a few minutes of thoughtfulness he suddenly got one of his most wicked grins.

Carefully, he moved onto his knees to better see his lord, in order to better take in the wonderful warmth of the sun they had both shed their robes and rolled up the legs of their pants and hitched their shirt-arms to their elbows. Perfectly muscled legs and arms were semi-visible under the sun and the green eyed teen marvelled at the opportunity presented to him. Trying to avoid casting a shadow over his lord he sneaked his hands and knees on opposite sides of his legs. Moving his face down almost directly above his object of tease he tentatively looked up to see if his Tom had noticed.

Satisfied no watchful eyes followed him he whispered a spell and watched as the top button of Voldemort's pants slid out of its hold. He took the zipper between his teeth and carefully pulled as he again turned his eyes to see if he'd been noticed, this time, he had.

Intense eyes shining with lust seemed glued to his as he continued to pull down until finally meeting the end. Dropping the zipped he now moved the open flyer only to drag the pants down and leaving the briefer clad hips free. The briefers went the same way until the gradually bulging manhood came to rest freely against his lord's abdomen. Bending further he ghosted his breath over the thing he'd been seeking, watching as it hardened further and then reached out a tongue to slowly, _agonizingly slowly_, Voldemort thought, lick a trail to the tip. After repeating the move a few times he came once again to the now leaking tip and let himself swirl over it and taste the salty pale liquid. Pausing to swallow he let his hand wander to himself and relieve an equally flush part. Feeling relieved he again bent down and this time he took in as much as he could before he swallowed Voldemort still inside his mouth.

A small moan escaped his lips as a delighted gasp came from his lord, the feeling of his Tom inside his mouth was amazing, he went lower and tried to relax his throat as he let his favourite member glide further on his tasting tongue. Humming in appreciation he heard a strangled moan tear from his lord, letting his glazed eyes travel the expanse of marvellous flesh before them he finally came to rest on a most luscious sight:

The dark lord had, in order to better see his pleaser, risen to rest on his elbows, but as a wave of passion travelled his body and a moan tore from his throat his head had been thrown back and his neck now bathed under the sun's warm watch.

The next minuets were filled with moans and gasps of passion as both the Dark Lord and his Prince shivered and basked in the warm glow of pleasure and sun.

Bobbing up and down with fervour Harry barely felt it as the Dark Lord tensed and with a gasp came deep in his throat. However, upon feeling the overwhelming taste of his lord in his mouth as he bucked under his ministrations he felt heat gather in his lower regions until exploding onto his hand which had been thoroughly pumping up and down in time with his head.

'I shall have to let you bask more often my serpent, if that was my reward' Harry hummed in response and after fastening their pants he settled down on his lover, laying his head on his arms and listened to his lords heart as his back continued to bask.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey!** Thanks to all you people reading this story, you make my day every time I read a review or get an alert! I worked for hours on this one, and I've got at least one if not two more chapters figured out. For those of you who think the story is confusing, there is a plot in this story only it's not really following a red thread, some chapters will be just fluff or lemon as I write about Harry's "Life with a Dark Lord".

**Warnings for this chapter: **emotional rollercoaster, impliedHarry/Voldie action. General frustration.

**Disclaimer****: **If Voldemort listened to music I just know the Star Wars soundtrack would be his favourite.

**Note: **I know from personal experience guys act like they have pms at least once a month.

**Life with a Dark Lord**

**Chapter 4, **

**I don't give a damn about bad reputation**

Harry Potter was not a happy teenager. Harry Potter was not a happy teenager at all. In fact, Harry Potter was a very angry teenager, livid if one cared to know. But, as was the order of things; no one did.

Harry was sitting in the Dark Lord's quarters; _their_ quarters really, if one bothered with details, but again; no-one ever does. At least not in the Slytherin Manor, except maybe for the house elves, who had to clean them- the details that is.

To cut a long story short you could say it was Harry's own fault he was sitting all alone with nothing to do except perhaps dust a painting or other, maybe stare out the pretty french windows, or sing some obnoxious hit he remembered from his days at Hogwarts. All of which he'd already done, again, and again, and again until he was utterly and completely bored, and then, he got angry.

Harry's point of view:

He was positively fuming. _Bloody war! Bloody Dark Lord! Old lemon-fucking, shrivelling, senile, bastard, colour-blind, devil-coot! _Somehow he had stood up during his mental cursing and begun pacing the room, finally he deemed the floor unworthy of kindness and he stomped his foot in frustration. Tom had kept him in the manor since he arrived almost three weeks prior and he was only ever allowed out while his Lord was there to babysit him, thus he didn't get out much, if ever. Since his disappearance from Hogwarts the war had escalated and Death Eaters brought news and rumours every other hour for the Dark Lord's knowledge. That is not to say either side was winning; no, not by even the smallest of measure. The Light stood strong facing the sun, but the Dark hid in every shadow. The Order of the Phoenix was gaining members even as the death eaters recruited both seniors and juniors faster than ever before.

Snarling, he made his way to the door; if Tom didn't intend to come to him he would go to Tom.

…

Voldemort's point of view:

The Dark Lord was getting tired of sitting on his arse for hours on end. The news brought to him was interesting and serving of the cause, but spending almost three weeks with only the occasional break to spend with the green-eyed minx currently inhabiting his quarters did little to stave off the irritation that seemed to make his magic bristle beneath his skin. It would seem, the Dark Lord thought, The Little One isn't the only one having trouble controlling his need for entertainment.

Lord Voldemort gazed searchingly around at his followers, the older followers shivered in horrific anticipation while the younger cringed uneasily. The ones attending this particular meeting varied from young, recent recruits not even out of school to old loyal worshippers with connections deep within the bowels of wizarding politics.

The Dark Lord's trail of thought caught at the sight of platinum blonde slivers of hair, _interesting, the Malfoy heir…I never would have assumed Lucius to be so lax on education_, it was the knowledge that these particular teens had been in regular attendance that surprised his assumptions of Lord Malfoy. The pureblood had always seemed so strict and always expressed his pride in wizarding education. To have his son and what could only be the sons and daughters of other prominent members of the inner circle already within his ranks was surprisingly double-edged. On one side they were sure to, in time, become great assets in the war effort and were already supplying him with inside information from within the walls of Hogwarts itself – information Harry could no longer provide. However, on the other side, they were young, as old as or even younger than his Harry, and none of them had Harry's experience or his maturity.

A shifting in the ranks drew his eye and he realized he had, unintentionally, caused a break in the reports. A senior Death Eater stepped cautiously forward and gave a low bow. Voldemort recognized him as one of his Gringotts informants; the one working for the Gringotts inheritance department, Mr. McClough. Only when McClough had assumed his kneeling position in front of the raised platform and kept his gaze on the floor before his Lord's feet did Voldemort address him.

"McClough… What newsss do you bring to me?" A shiver went through the waiting Death Eaters as their Lord didn't quite manage to hide his impatience with the proceedings.

"My Lord." McClough gave the traditional pause before he continued, "The ministry is showing an interest in the vaults of the Ancient and Noble House of Black as well as those of the Olde and Proud House of Potter, the Goblins suspect they will try to seize them because of Harry Potter's disappearance." Outwardly Voldemort looked calm and calculating, on the inside however, his emotions raged and stormed in shock and panic with an underlying current of worry and anxiety on behalf of his young companion. Squashing down his out-of-control emotions he focused on speculations and additional information.

"Curiousss…" he mused and tapped his wand in a steady beat against a golden armrest. What of the Goblins? Would they, who most assuredly knew the Potter and Black heir was not dead, relinquish their hold on the more likely than not, large interests of such old and high-esteemed families? "McClough, what, pray tell, do you know of the Goblinsss intentionsss in this regard?" although surprised at his Lord's interest the informant continued his recount of what he'd heard.

"The Goblins seem adamant to keep the vaults closed. It has caused quite the stirrup in other apartments as well, the investment department being one of those, as well as the artefacts' department." The Dark Lord felt himself go stiff, if the case was making the Goblins this serious and interested the Ministry must have something big on them, or rather, on Harry… had they found out?

A rustling of robes caught his eye and all gathered turned to one of the more recent recruits as he cautiously stepped forward and kneeled just outside the half circle of those in attendance. "My Lord." Voldemort motioned to McClough to step back and let the other report; "the ministry has announced Harry Potter dead" Voldemort froze.

This was not good. Not good at all. _Oh Harry is going to be positively furious at this_. And then he realized; the ministry isn't supposed to be able to name a missing person dead until the passage of six months. There had barely passed one. Oh this- this was bad.

Magic crackled off of him in waves but he did not care; they dare! He had promised to care for his serpent, yes, but to allow a gullible ministry to seize his precious vaults and thus keep him from his rightful inheritance and titles? No, he would have to be mental to let that happen. Just as he was about to dismiss his followers the great mahogany doors banged open into the chamber.

General point of view:

Judging by the heavy magic their Lord was furious but just as he seemed about to do something the heavy and intricately carved doors of the chamber were thrown open and hit the walls. In the opening stood the lithe teen from three weeks ago, he was wearing his mask but was otherwise dressed in close-fitting grey dress pants and a burgundy muggle turtle-neck tucked in by the waist. A dragon tooth earring sat in his left earlobe and a silver serpent coiled around a loop in an auricle piercing on his right ear. The silver mask was hiding the top part of his expression but what they could see caused them to flinch; never mind the magic he seemed to bathe the room with, soaking even their Lord's aura. Their Prince was angry.

The Death Eaters watched as the prince's gaze seemed to zero in on their Lord. A slight widening of their Lord's eyes was all evidence they got of Voldemort's reaction. And then he started moving – he walked slowly, calmly, this was no childish anger, this was impatient irritation and his magic was silently demanding their submission. They parted as he went.

Harry's point of view:

A distant part of his mind noticed the gathering of Tom's followers was parting submissively before him as he strode purposely forwards.

"_Tom~" _Harry sing-songed, he felt Tom twitch through their bond, _"It's been a long time Tommy-boy."_ He continued, and saw the other's eyes narrow and then widen with sudden realization; it had been days since they last talked, sure a quick thrust now and then but sleep was really the only thing they'd been doing together since almost a week ago. The week before that had been little better and now, obviously, he was facing the consequences.

"_Harry…"_He began softly not really knowing what to do, or say. He felt rather than saw Harry's face twist into an unbecoming sneer.

"_Yes my Lord, what is your wish my liege?"_ bitterness permeated the bond, _"shall I go warm your bed? Maybe spend some time to make myself more suited to your desires? Or perhaps you would simply like to have me right here, in front of your loyal followers, tell me oh _kind Lord_" _by now he was spitting the words and causing Tom to flinch, for real, Harry felt some small satisfaction when he remembered Death Eaters were still present to see their Lord's squirming, _"Am I only good to use in bed? Am I your property to use as you wish and lock up for your convenience? Your own personal housewife except all _I_ am allowed to do is stare out the window, unless you count eating, sleeping and keeping my hygene"_ He knew he was rambling now but really, his patience had snapped, and he felt betrayed; this was not what he'd seen for himself as he agreed to be Tom's lover. Somehow he hadn't thought it was what Tom had planned either. _Harry Potter luck huh._

Harry turned around, his eyes stung with unshed hormonal tears and he couldn't bear to see the reaction Tom would undoubtedly have. He closed off the bond and started to take a step in the direction of the big doors.

"_Harry I- I don't know what to say, please don't leave!"_ suddenly Tom's strong, warm hands were clamped desperately around his upper arms, it didn't hurt. Even now, Tom didn't hurt him, _"Harry I'm sorry, I should have taken time, or brought you with me, I am overprotective and possessive; I know that and so do you-"_

"_Tom I know you love me" _and he really did, _"and I love you too, but I am not something you can just place somewhere to protect me."_ _Damn these fucking teenage hormones_. He felt his eyes starting to overflow and just as he was about wrench himself free of Tom's grip he was whirled to face the Dark Lord. Voldemort's face showed nothing but he felt a distinct prodding from their bond and finally relented.

What he felt was overwhelming; Tom was feeling guilty and remorseful, he was angry- at himself- and then there was sadness and a slight panic, fear of him leaving.

'I'm not leaving' he said finally. Tom's feelings of relief were contagious and he suddenly found himself wrapped around the Dark Lord kissing him passionately and his actions being fully reciprocated, well, except for the wrapping part. Dark Lords didn't do wrapping.

'Harry,'

'Yes?'

'We just exposed our relationship to my Death Eaters' Harry hummed in response and heard rather than saw as people shifted and relaxed as the tension between the two powerful wizards relaxed and the wheels of their gossiping minds started to turn.

'Let them think what they will'

'Very well then, let us sit down; there is something I must tell you'.


	5. Chapter 5

**Aww gosh, sorry for the extremely long wait but life made an appearance I couldn't ignore – in form of long essays and stressful tests. But now my summer has begun and I will try to increase the number of updates :D**

**So… please tell me what you think of the plot and if there's something you'd like me to add! You see inspiration's running low at the moment… OH and if you'd like me to write a second 'filler' like chapter three you only have to ask *wiggles eyebrows***

**Warnings for this chapter: **None really… It's already rated Mature.

**Disclaimer:** No, the Harry Potter universe isn't mine… yet.

**Life with a Dark Lord**

**Chapter 5, **

**Numb**

_Last chapter; _

'_We just exposed our relationship to my Death Eaters' Harry hummed in response and heard rather than saw as people shifted and relaxed as the tension between the two powerful wizards relaxed and the wheels of their gossiping minds started to turn._

'_Let them think what they will'_

'_Very well then, let us sit down; there is something I must tell you'. _

…

'What is it? Did something happen at Hogwarts?' Harry asked, feeling the beginnings of apprehension settle in his stomach. He and Tom had agreed from the beginning he would only focus on the youngsters' part in the war; thus a happening at Hogwarts would be of great importance. The feeling of dread he received through their bond however, spoke of graver things to be told.

'No, little one, nothing has changed at Hogwarts… Harry I-' The Dark Lord paused, not knowing how to start telling his lover how his life was being, once again, hindered by the incompetent British Ministry of Magic. He sighed. Nothing could ease such news, he knew.

'Tom?' Came a hesitant voice through their link, turning, Voldemort could see his lover looking at him with his uncertain verdant gaze. The Dark Lord closed his eyes in resignation. He would, of course, be ready to stop his lover should Harry decide to go rampant, but would he be ready for tears?

A Dark Lord was never ready for tears.

'Tom what did y-'

"_Harry__, my beloved, the Ministry has declared you dead and are trying to seize your vaults and titles"_ Voldemort didn't dare look up from where his eyes had fallen on the cold, stone floor. And so, without pause, he continued to explain what his informants had told him and what he had deduced from the knowledge. Through it all Harry sat still and stared blankly out into space, to the Death Eaters it looked as though he was listening raptly while contemplating whatever his Lord was telling him, in reality he was far, far away from whatever was happening around him; his lover's voice was like a forest stream, a noise belonging to the background; present but not quite there.

Tom let his gaze sweep across the chamber as he waited for his lover's response; his followers were still and quiet. Perhaps they didn't want to disturb whatever struggle their leaders seemed to have, _perhaps they are simply too frightened to interfere._

Harry's point of view:

In the back of his mind he absently noted Tom's sibilant tones as his lover continued to muse about what his informants had told him and what they already knew of Gringotts's customs.

The air felt cold and dank to him as he sat dully on his silver throne. He longed suddenly for that day which felt so long ago; when they had basked in the warm summer's sun, he longed for that penetrating glow, suffusing even the darkest corners of his mind as even his eyelids glowed red when they closed.

He wanted out.

He felt like crawling under a rock and hide until time itself had gone by and all left would be the unforgiving sun as it burned the ground on which men once had walked.

He didn't want to see anymore. Let the darkness surround him and drown out all things as he hid.

Voldemort's point of view:

Harry had stayed silent since being told the news - too quiet. Now, Dark Lords do not get anxious nor do they fret. However, as the minuets ticked by the Dark Lord was grudgingly starting to admit that perhaps they were allowed to worry, at least about their lovers.

As it were, he was starting to think that perhaps it would have been easier on his lover to just "kill some bitches" – as they always said in those abhorrent and explosive muggle movies his little serpent had made them watch occasionally.

Suddenly he felt Harry reaching for his magic until a thick black cloak fell into his outstretched hands. He looked to his lover as Voldemort, whose speech he hadn't even known to have stopped, started once again. An almost incomprehensible nod later Tom was up and draping the black fabric across around his lover's shoulders. The Dark Lord then proceeded to lift the hood to shield the emerald eyed face from view.

Successfully hidden from the unrelenting stares of curious Death Eaters Voldemort watched his lover drift away from the harsh reality of the present.

An indiscernible shake of his head was the only sign of his worry as he turned from his young lover to face the inquisitive eyes of those awaiting his orders, he let his hands travel up his forearms and cross over his chest, hidden beneath the folds of his dark robes. He smiled wryly.

Draco's point of view: 

This was the third meeting this week he had attended. He knew from his father the lithe youth from weeks ago hadn't been present again during the meetings he had not been there for. In the cover of night he would lay awake and think of him; pale cheeks and glowing green eyes, so much like the curse of Death, surrounded by locks of ebony black. Panting he would imagine lifting that mask and uncovering those pale features he so wished to caress.

The entrance in mid-meeting was so welcome he nearly sighed in content. But then he'd felt the pure wave of rage sweep across the room, once they'd all realized from whence it came his eyes had nearly bulged with shock as magic, roiling like muscles in a beast, seemed to create an aura around the object of his night-time fantasies. To say he was disappointed when the youth finally, after several minuets of open anger towards his leader jumped into said man's arms to engage in a passionate snog-fest would be an understatement.

All he could do was close his mouth in the hopes of not having been noticed and listen as those around him started whispering beneath hearing range of those now seating themselves on the raised platform.

_Pansy would get a kick out of this_, he thought sardonically and tried to quench his feelings of jealousy; it would not do to be jealous of one's leader. Especially when said leader is the most powerful dark wizard of the century. Or longer, who knows?

"The time is not for war or violence nor of hostility or arrogance, those are things we cannot afford at this stage of revolution. No… the time has finally arrived for us to step forward, backs straight and masks in place, time for tact and cunning, finely spoken words to sway the upstanding in society to our side, whispers in cottoned ears and tones of truth and call… The time has come for us to enter the field of -"

- Slam!

General point of view:

A loud bang reverberated through the hall as the great double doors slammed open once again, surprised, all in the room sprang to into action and pointed wands towards the interruption.

What they saw made them all pale in apprehension.

A dark haired man clad in ripped casual robes matted in blood stumbled a few steps before falling to his knees. What made them all tremble in anger though, was the small child clutched in his arms. Desperately, as to not crush it, he held it out in front of him as he started to topple forwards in exhaustion. Immediately one of the more level headed members of their ranks ran forwards to catch him and the child – which was wailing loud and despairingly, as only a baby can.

"Take the baby",

"Is it hurt?"

"What happened?"

"Are there others wounded?"

The questions became more and more and as the death eaters lowered the man onto the floor and a transfigured cushion a female death eater lovingly fussed over the child, making it quiet it's wailing.

Voldemort stepped down from his podium with a quick glance in his lover's direction; Harry was watching the proceedings with pain in his seemingly glowing eyes. _Good_, he thought; it would not do for his lover to lose all contact with the world as he immersed himself in numbness.

His followers stepped to the side to let him through as he neared the man. As he came closer he could distinguish certain features, they indicated someone of the Rockwell family, but he was not of the inner circle.

"His name Lucius." He said softly – there was no need for harsh words to add to the panic. The tall blond patriarch had already removed his mask and was running scans over the man's body. He didn't look up but merely hissed under his breath as he seemed to find the source of the blood rapidly gathering in a small pool underneath the man's torso.

"Terrence Rockwell, the child is either Ulrika Nott or Emeline Diedrich. They are from one of the Fidelius sites." Answered one of the younger recruits, Theodore Nott he believed he was called. _I see_, Voldemort mused sadly as he watched the pale teen acquire a gray tone as he'd walked up to the child and widened his eyes in recognition; obviously the boy was a relative of the victims. As young Theodore took the child from the woman and into his arms the man on the floor seemed to twitch as the blood replenishing potion took effect.

Slowly, the Dark Lord lowered himself to his knees to better hear what the man seemed to mumble, almost as mantra as he stared desperately into his Lord's eyes.

"Hel- help…the Order is …Help them, please…" startled and numb with fury their Lord rose again and walked back to the podium,

"My faithful followers, it would seem our plans of peaceful manipulations are foregone by Dumbledore's Order, the time has come to protect our families - we leave now for 'the houses on the Hill' " with that the Fidelius secret was shared and impatient cracks of apparition were heard as dozens of Death Eaters left the chamber to fight. Voldemort stood in front of his quiet lover and waited as glowing jade eyes tilted upwards to look at him, a small and sad smile tipped one corner of rose-red lips up and the Dark Lord gave an almost non-existent sigh of relief before he swooped down and kissed his little serpent – then he was gone.


End file.
